


Thrown Out The Back

by LaurelSilver



Series: Victimised [27]
Category: Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: Gen, Kidnapping, Recreational Drug Use, Vomiting, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27628247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaurelSilver/pseuds/LaurelSilver
Summary: "Get thrown out the back... Gotta, gotta get mine/Gotta, gotta get more!"Johnny 3 Tears, Tear It UpJohnny gets thrown out the bar. In a change of pace, Matty offers him coke.No violence in this one, just some back story.
Relationships: n/a
Series: Victimised [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/910587
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Thrown Out The Back

**Author's Note:**

> NAMES ARE USEFUL:  
> Johnny; Johnny 3 Tears  
> Charlie; Charlie Scene  
> Danny; Danny  
> Dylan; Funny Man  
> Jorel; J-Dog  
> Matty; Da Kurlzz
> 
> Just to be very clear;  
> 1\. I have not done, nor do I have any intention of doing, anything described in this fic. This fic is pure fiction.  
> 2\. I don't think Matty has done, or has any intention of doing, anything described in this fic.  
> 3\. I do not encourage or condone anything described in this fic. This fic is pure fic. Recreating this fic, or anything similar, is illegal and immoral and very fucked up.  
> 4\. You are not obliged to read, finish reading if you start, or comment/kudos if you finish.
> 
> Some minor warnings; this fic contains vomiting in the opening paragraphs.
> 
> ALSO: this fic takes place in early 2014, before social distancing measures

Johnny stumbled into the wall and glared it down like it had breached him on purpose. It loomed over him and Johnny dismissed his own aggression in favour of leaning on the wall to heave up the pizza he’d inhaled barely three hours ago. It hit the ground with a splat that brought up another, drier heave straight after. The smell summoned a third dry heave.

The back door slammed as a pair of women were thrown out the same way Johnny came. They picked themselves up, dusted each other off without smacking any of the dirt away, hurled some slurred abuse after the doorman, and tottered off, balanced on each other and waddling and laughing.

Johnny stared at the door. There was no handle on the outside, and a guard stood at said door and just opened and closed it as another guard dragged the too-drunk idiots out. Too-drunk idiots like Johnny. Sounds like a great job, though, just opening and closing a door all night. Like an elevator operator, but much less classy.

Johnny was usually the first one the more hands-on guards would grab. It was probably his size and habit of randomly screaming. Charlie would be next, sometimes with a woman’s handprint glowing red on his cheek, usually with an empty bottle or cup clenched in his fist, always with his fly undone. Next varied between Danny, Dylan and Jorel, usually two of them at once closely followed by the third. The pair would be clinging to each other like the drunk girls, and the third would pair himself up with Charlie. Last was typically Matty, more escorted out than thrown. Charlie and Jorel used to joke that the bouncers still know Matty from his own bouncer days and he’d done _something wink-wink_ to be treated nicer. The joke got old, but Matty would still follow his idiots out every time.

The door opened and Matty stepped through. The guard on the door gave Matty a nod and swung it straight closed again.

“Huh?” Johnny slurred.

“I think you’ve had too much, man,” Matty said.

“Nah,” Johnny said, “Nah, I’m good. I’m great. I’m fucking fantastic! I’m-” he broke off as a metallic taste breached his mouth.

Matty was in front of him, in his personal space, holding a pilfered napkin up to Johnny’s nose. The napkin would have smelt completely of beer if Johnny’s nostrils hadn’t been blocked up with blood and whatever the coke had been cut with.

“You still good?” Matty said.

“Fuck you,” Johnny retorted. He took the napkin and tried to back away from Matty’s space, pressing himself tighter into the wall, “Stop touching me.”

“I’m not touching you.”

“Fuck off.”

Matty tutted. Johnny pulled the napkin away and sniffed, and could feel the blood dislodge and push back up into sinuses. A sticky sheen clung to his upper lip.

“You need to clean up,” Matty said.

“Yeah?” Johnny said, “Tell your buddy to let me back in, then.”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“I ain’t paying to get into this shithole twice!”

Matty snorted a laugh. “We gotta go somewhere else.”

“But the assholes,” Johnny gestured back to the club.

Matty laughed. “They already left.”

“What?”

“Yeah, they moved on to another bar. That new one a block away, remember?”

Johnny frowned. He didn’t remember.

“You went to the bathroom before we left, and you didn’t come back. They went, and I came looking for you. And here we are.”

Johnny didn’t remember going to the bathroom either. He remembered downing a drink, snorting a line, laughter, then hands on him dragging him out.

“And now we gotta go before your bloody nose gets us in trouble,” Matty said, and his arm was around Johnny’s, leading him away.

“Where’d everybody go?” Johnny said.

“The new bar, I just told you.”

“What new bar?”

“The one two blocks away. Harlem Bar. Remember?”

“No.”

Matty sighed. “You’re drunk, of course you don’t remember.”

“You’re drunk, too!”

“Not so drunk I’ve forgot the exact bar I’ve not shut the fuck up about all day! Come on!”

Johnny dug his heels into the ground and wrenched himself out of Matty’s grip. “I’m not going without the others.”

“They’re already gone!”

Matty and Johnny glared at each other in the dim alleyway light. Music throbbed to their side. A pair were fornicating nearer the mouth of the alleyway with a long string of determined grunts.

“Look,” Matty stepped closer and pulled something out of his pocket, “Forget the assholes, we can split this between just us, yeah?” The baggie sat in Matty’s palm, white on white, half full of the sweet dust.

Johnny’s hand closed over Matty’s, the baggie trapped between their palms. “Lead on, sweet prince.”

Matty smiled and lead Johnny on past the now climaxed and embarrassed couple, out into the streets.

Twenty minutes later, Charlie was shoved out, followed by Danny and Dylan clinging to each other and having to squeeze through together, and finally Jorel half-thrown by the pissed off bouncer. Charlie upended his empty bottle into his open mouth, catching those last few drops. Red clung to his jaw and his fly was, of course, undone. Danny and Dylan had managed to stay upright and were fixing each other’s hair with coos of compliments. Jorel picked himself up and threw a stone at the now-closed door.

“Assholes,” Jorel said, and turned around. He looked over his trio of drunk idiots. “How did we lose Johnny? How can you lose a guy that size? With that kind of mouth?”

“You forget to cherish him,” Danny said, completely serious.

“He’s definitely not in there,” Charlie said, “None of the dealers had seen him in at least an hour.”

“Are they sure?” Jorel said.

“Damn sure. Surprised none of them know his fucking social security number. Those bastards know him better than we do.”

“Then where the fuck is he?!”

“Where’s…” Dylan had to breathe deep between words, sentences escaping him, “Where’s Matty?”

“He went home half-hour ago,” Jorel said, “Something about work. I wasn’t listening, honestly.”

Charlie cheered to that and downed his empty bottle.

“So it’s just Johnny we’re missing?”

Jorel nodded. He lit up a rollie and offered a second pre-rolled vice out to the group. Danny accepted.

“We could ask around some other bars,” Danny said as the smoke exhaled.

“I can’t be paying five bucks at every bar just to not find the asshole,” Jorel said, “Anyone tried his phone?”

“No answer,” Dylan said.

“Could just ask the bouncer,” Danny said.

“Hey man, you seen a guy ye’ tall,” Jorel reached up a few inches taller than Johnny is, “‘3’ tat on his neck, coked off his head, probably wearing a hat?”

“We don’t have to mention the coke.”

“Anyone else got a better plan?” Charlie said.

No answer.

“Ask around it is then,” Jorel said, “Let’s go.”

And they were off in a little gaggle, Danny and Dylan still clinging to each other, Jorel putting an arm around Charlie’s shoulders. The alleyway was empty, and the smell of vomit faded as they stepped out into the street, unknowingly in the opposite direction that Johnny had followed.

**Author's Note:**

> "Before social distancing measures" was a joke by the way, even if it feels like we've been locked down for six years already. Or maybe that's just me.
> 
> "Matty's bouncer days" refers to Scene For Dummies line "Got my hand stamped by Matt" which I read somewhere is a reference to Matty having worked as a bouncer before HU's successes.  
> The change in the bar's location (One block away, two blocks away) is because Matty was making it up as he went along.  
> The bar is called Harlem Bar because I was listening to a song called Harlem by New Politics as I wrote that bit. New Politics are a Danish pop-punk band (but they sing in English as far as I've listened), if you want a new band to listen to.  
> I have a bad habit of overstating height differences, but Jorel is also drunk as he tried to gesticulate Johnny's height so lets make that a factor.
> 
> This fic wasn't too gory/horrible, but I'm gonna encourage some self-care anyway because self-care is important. So do something to care for yourself today, even if it's as simple as washing your face really well or taking all the empty mugs/bottles out of your room.


End file.
